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Authors: Hammerheads (v1.1)

Brown, Dale - Independent 02 (87 page)

 
          
“All
right.” The fixed-wing, speedy, well-armed Seagull drones were unsuitable for
search-and-rescue operations so none were being used—that left the Seagull
fleet available. “Ian, I need to find out—”

 
          
“About
the airborne drone-control system,” Hardcastle anticipated. “I just buzzed
McLanahan. Are we going to do this? Are we finally going to kick some ass
around here?”

 
          
“I’m
considering an authorized Border Security long-range search operation,” Elliott
replied. “We’re not going out to kick any ass but with KEYSTONE, HIGHBAL and
CARABAL down we’re going to need some long-range eyes up there until we get our
replacement picket-ships operating.”

 
          
“McLanahan
here, General. You want to know the status of the airborne drone control system?
If we can get our E-2 back from
Mobile
I can have the sensor software changed in
about an hour. That’ll put control of the drones in the hands of the senior
radar controller—”

 
          
“I’ve
already recalled the E-2 from
Alabama
,” Hardcastle said, referring to a
sophisticated aircraft carrier-based radar plane that could scan thousands of
cubic miles of airspace at a time. Customs had acquired several of these planes
for drug patrols and they were then turned over to the Hammerheads. With the
aerostat sites in the southeast, the E-2 patrols were moved farther west, where
aerostat coverage had not yet been established. “His ETA is about thirty
minutes. I was going to put him on patrol in the Santaren Channel to assist in
recovery operations.”

 
          
“Do
you need him for anything in particular?” Elliott asked.

 
          
“He
was going to fill in the Caribbean radar picture for us until we got the Navy
ships on-line,” Hardcastle said, “but I don’t think we’re going to see too many
smugglers coming through here for a while, they’ll be too worried they’ll get
their asses shot down by an F-16. I can kick him loose.”

 
          
“Good.
Patrick, recover him in
Aladdin
City
and begin the software change as soon as
you can. Ian, get the Seagulls armed and ready to fly. We’ll see if we can’t put
together a ‘patrol’ with them tonight.”

 

 
          
Border
Security Force Headquarters,
Aladdin City
,
Florida
,

 
          
Two Hours Later

 

 
          
The
ramp area of the Hammerheads’ aircraft-parking area was ablaze with lights and
bustling with activity as at least one AV-22 Sea Lion tilt-rotor landed or
lifted off every three minutes. Fuel trucks scurried among the parked aircraft,
refueling and servicing each plane minutes after it landed. There were
ambulances parked near the headquarters building with their rotating lights on
but with no sirens—there was no need for hurry, no survivors had yet been found
from Hammerhead One.

 
          
On
the opposite side of the parking ramp the area was not as brightly lit and was
more secluded but it was just as active with men pulling dark, bat-like shapes
from storage hangars.

 
          
One
by one the unusual-looking devices were prepared. A fuel truck serviced each of
these aircraft, but the refueling operation took far less time than for the big
tilt-rotor aircraft—more like putting gas into the family car at the corner
service station, even to the extent of checking the engine oil and wiping the
“windshield,” in this case, the bulbous six-inch-round glass sensor eye on the
very nose of the Seagull long-range drone.

 
          
After
refueling and the service check, armorers came out and fitted two fiberglass
tubes onto the drones, one under each wing near the fuselage. Each tube was
about three and a half inches in diameter and six feet long and weighed only
forty pounds; two men could snap on a canister to a Seagull drone with ease.
The canisters contained one Sea Stinger missile along with its
remote-controlled firing system and a rocket-motor exhaust-deflection system to
keep the missile’s first-stage exhaust gases—which ejected the missile from the
canister and far enough away from the drone to safely ignite the main rocket
motor—from damaging the drone’s propeller. Along with the six-
missile
Sea
Stinger pod and the Chain Gun pod on the
AV-22 Sea Lion aircraft that was going along on the mission, they would be carrying
a total of forty-six deadly missiles.

 
          
While
the aircraft were quickly, quietly, fitted out, the crewmen were being briefed
in one of the offices in the drone’s maintenance hangar. Elliott had a map of
the
Caribbean
on an easel—for an unauthorized, secret
operation such as this, there were no sophisticated computer-generated graphics
or presentations.

 
          
“The
Hammerheads were dealt a blow tonight,” Elliott began. “The latest word is
thirty-five dead and five missing from the Hammerhead One platform. Three
people, including two children, were killed at the CARABAL aerostat site during
the attack. There were injuries sustained at the KEYSTONE site. One Air Force
pilot is injured. Three of our four aerostats in the area have been destroyed
or heavily damaged. The losses we sustained run into the billions.

 
          
“Earlier
today I organized a mission into a remote Haitian airstrip called Verrettes,
where we suspected a good deal of smuggling activity has been originating.
Patrick McLanahan and one of my pilots from
Nevada
flew the mission. They landed, and the
pilot actually spoke with the commander of the base, a Colonel Salazar. While
at Verrettes, McLanahan and his partner observed several makes of sophisticated
and heavily armed jets, including Russian MiG-2 Is, French Mirages, Aero
Albatros attack planes and FMA Pucara ground-support aircraft. Salazar, an
ex-Cuban Air Force officer, is supposedly a local militia commander, yet he
commands an air force superior to that of any country in the
Caribbean
basin except
Cuba
itself.

 
          
“That
was this morning. It is my strong suspicion that this Salazar organized an air
strike against our aerostat stations in retaliation for our reconnaissance
mission and to knock out our capability to interdict his drug-smuggling planes.
The weapon load, flight characteristics, range and profile of the aircraft used
in the air strikes all match those of the aircraft found at Verrettes, and
match no other nation’s air force except Cuba’s, and we have no evidence to
link Cuba with this act.

 
          
“We
also now believe this Salazar and his group were responsible for attacks
against the Coast Guard and Customs Service dating as far back as the Mahogany
Hammock attack three years ago
and
the downing of a Coast Guard Falcon jet near Bimini, as well as the deliberate
murder of children he carried in his smuggling planes in recent weeks. He may
have been responsible for as much as fifty percent of the air-smuggling
activities in the southeast in the last five years. He was for sure the man in
charge of the air strikes tonight

 
          
“So
... by my authority as commander of the Border Security Force I am going to
conduct a reconnaissance and surveillance mission into the
Caribbean
basin, specifically, against the
Hispaniola- Cuba-Turks and Caicos area, with special emphasis on
Haiti
and the air base at Verrettes. Because of
the possible threat from Salazar’s forces I am directing that armed drones,
controlled from our E-2 Hawkeye aircraft, precede the single AV-22 aircraft
that will conduct the mission. I am also directing that if any aircraft is
attacked we will respond to protect our lives and insure the success of this
mission.”

 
          
Elliott
moved away from the front of the office and among the pilots, crewmembers and
technicians involved in the mission, looking into the eyes of the heavily armed
I-Team members and saying in a quiet matter-of-fact tone, “What I’ve just told
you is the official word,
my
official
word, and you will use it if asked later on by competent authority. Otherwise
this mission is strictly confidential... You all know, I think, the real
objective behind this mission. We’re going in to Verrettes to destroy Salazar’s
smuggling operation. If we see any aircraft on the ground at Verrettes, I will
order McLanahan to attack them with the Seagull drones. I will also order him
to attack any air-defense units, aircraft hangars, communications or
maintenance facilities and aircraft shelters. If we don’t encounter too much
resistance I’ll order the I-Team to mov e in and destroy any aircraft or key buildings
remaining; otherwise the AV-22 will orbit the base and assess damage.

 
          
“We’re
going with twenty Seagull drones, each carrying two Sea Stinger missiles. I
wish we had more but we can’t get to them without stirring up too much
suspicion. If the drones don’t make it all the way into Verrettes because of
heavy air defense, we abort the mission. I hope we’ll take out a few of theirs
on the way in.

 
          
“We’ll
have one AV-22 tilt-rotor, call-sign Lion Two-Nine. Rushell Masters will be the
commander in Two-Nine. The mission commander will be myself, flying in
Two-Nine’s left seat. Two-Nine will carry a standard Sea Stinger pod and a M230
Chain Gun pod, with only one reload to save weight. We will carry an eight-man
I-Team armed and armored, sidearms and rifles with M203 grenade launchers. I
also wish we had heavier weapons but we don’t have access to them. The AV-22
will have one RHIB on board.

 
          
“We’ll
have one E-2 Hawkeye radar plane, call-sign Lion Seven- One, which will be
along primarily to control the drones from the air and secondarily to provide
tactical warning for the package. Command of the drone package will be
McLanahan aboard the E-2 Hawkeye.

 
          
“For
support we’ll have one V-22, Lion Three-Three, configured for inflight
refueling for the AV-22 and the Hawkeye if necessary. He’ll stay behind with
the Hawkeye but he’ll be armed with Sea Stingers and a Chain Gun pod and can
assist in case anything happens at Verrettes. He’ll carry an extra eight
thousand pounds of fuel, which should be insurance for the manned aircraft in
the package making the round trip.” Elliott looked at a dejected Hardcastle
sitting in front of him. “Sorry, Ian, but someone’s got to hold down the fort.”

 
          
“Then
let me do it.” The voice came in from the office door. Heads turned to see
Sandra GefiFar standing in the doorway wearing a flight suit and with her .45
in its shoulder rig. She wore a smile but it couldn’t mask the pain she was
feeling as she entered the office and, with Hardcastle’s help, took a desk
seat.

 
          
“What
are you doing out of the hospital?”

 
          
“I
was going to stay there with my platform destroyed and my crew dead? I’m all
right. I haven’t heard your whole briefing but I have a few suggestions—”

 
          
“You
are
not
all right . . .”

 
          
“Okay,
Dr. Elliott, I’m not one hundred percent, I hurt like hell, but I don’t belong
in the hospital. I belong here.” She looked into Elliott’s taut, exhausted
face, scanned the other faces in the office. “I’ve had a helluva lot more rest
than any of you during the last forty-eight hours. You guys look worse than I
feel. How much crew rest have
you
had? Shall we start sending everyone home here that’s not legally qualified to
fly this mission?”

 
          
Elliott
kept silent.

 
          
“All
right, then. General Elliott, you shouldn’t be in the AV-22— you should be in
the E-2 with McLanahan. You can’t command a mission like this and act as
copilot in an AV-22 at the same time. Move Ian into the AV-22 with Rush. I’ll
take command here with Annette.” She tried to cross her arms on her chest after
finishing her pronouncement, thought better after the pain shot through her
body, then sat quietly in the chair.

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